No Other Way
by RipredtheGnawer
Summary: Turns out, Peeta wasn't lying when he said Katniss was pregnant. No hijacking, starts after the Quell. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Don't own the hunger games trilogy, or any of the characters - including Peeta, Katniss, Venia, Flavius, Octavia, Plutarch, Coin, or Snow. Whatever, you get the gist.**

**Anyways, my inspiration here came from HalfHope, as did some of my other stuff. HalfHope is my lifeline.**

**And I don't know what I did with Peeta's hijacking, but it's not in there. I didn't want to write that... it's got no place in mushy love stuff, at least when I write it... but I like how SC did it.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

I open my eyes, and there he is. Blue eyes half closed, slouching in his chair. Asleep, but here. My gasp wakes him, and he struggles into consciousness as I stare at him, unable to speak. Eventually he sits up and realizes I'm awake.

"Katniss? Are you all right?" His voice is a worried whisper, and I see my mother asleep against the wall. Has she told him…?

"Peeta! H-how are you here?" It's been two months since they dragged me out of that forsaken clock arena, leaving him behind. For two months I've been wondering what Snow's doing to him. I didn't even know a rescue team had been dispatched, and now that he's in front of me, I think my heart may explode.

"The rebels got me out of the Capitol a few hours ago. You were asleep when I got here. I didn't want to leave." Now that the shock's starting to wear off, I can see the bags under his eyes. The bruises and shallow cuts everywhere.

"You should have been treated," I tell him, but my relief kind of detracts from the potency of my sternness.

"Why are _you_ in the hospital, Katniss? You weren't hurt badly in the arena – I figured you'd be on the front line by now."

"Oh, it's nothing," I say, but in his eyes I can see he doesn't believe me.

"Don't lie to me. I know you too well. _What's wrong?_"

"Nothing's wrong." I answer too quickly, and sigh.

"Please, Katniss. Tell me." There is only concern in his voice. Peeta, my love. I should tell him.

"It's, um, well…" he's staring at me. Those big, blue eyes are fixated on me. "I'm pregnant, Peeta." I shift the blankets back to reveal my slightly bulging abdomen.

He doesn't move. Just stares at the material evidence of our love. He knows what night I'm referring to, the night on the train. Just before the Quell. Everything changed that night, and I saw the boy with the bread in a different way. But I'm starting to wonder if this is even worse than I thought, if he will not want this child, when his face breaks into a grin. "Katniss, this is wonderful!" He leans in and kisses me, and in the kiss I can feel that he will love our baby and me and everything will be all right. Then he breaks away, worried again. "But why are you in the hospital?" A new thought strikes him as he speaks, and his shoulders droop. "This – this is _our_ baby, right? Not some other guy's?"

I know he's thinking of Gale, and rush to reassure him. "It's yours. I wouldn't have it any other way."

His face brightens. "But still, why are you in the hospital? It's only been… two months, right?"

"Two months and two weeks," I say, "but the doctors aren't sure what damage may have been done by fighting in the arena. They don't want me moving around too much, just in case."

"Oh." His brow wrinkles, and I am drowning in pools of blue. "Are you _really_ ok? You're not upset about the baby?"

"Well, I'm not sure. But we can make this work, right? If we're together?"

He smiles and leans in for another kiss. "I wouldn't have it any other way."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First, I'd like to apologize for the insanely long gap between the chapters. I'm not sure I really like this fic, but do you guys? Because if so, I'll make an effort to continue. If not, I can mark it complete.**

**Because this has got to be the most OOC thing I've ever written.**

**Please tell me if it's worth continuing!**

* * *

Plutarch comes by a week later, towing Peeta. "Katniss, there are people here to see you," the Head Gamemaker says. I look at Peeta for more details, but his unusually grim eyes reveal nothing. Then I understand.

Three very thin, very frightened figures stumble into my hospital room. Dressed in the white gowns that are uniform for all of us patients, stripped of their eccentric jewelry, they look almost normal. But those golden tattoos, those corkscrew curls – the purple lipstick has vanished – and the green skin, are all very familiar.

"Venia?" It makes no sense that my prep team is here. They should be in the Capitol, attending parties and whatnot. "What's going on?"

"They were rescued when I was, apparently," says Peeta. "but they've been to upset to go anywhere. Until now. Plutarch brought me to see them and then I told them that you were here. As soon as I said your name, they wanted to come."

"We were worried," says Flavius.

"When the arena was destroyed, we thought you were dead," says Venia. "It's been horrible." I'm sure it has. With these three, anything short of perfection is bad. But I don't hold it against them.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here, or I would have helped sooner." I shoot Peeta a look. My eyes ask, _do they know?_ He shakes his head slightly.

"Are you ill?" The question comes from Flavius, who looks so worried that I'm gratified. I didn't expect such a degree of concern.

"No." I pause, wondering how to phrase this. "I hope you like kids."

They stand there, wondering what I mean, until Octavia gets it. "A baby! Oh, I'm so happy for you two!" Suddenly I'm mobbed by three ecstatic beauticians. They're laughing and joking and smiling so hard I think their faces will break. Octavia is actually crying.

"Calm down," I get out, but I'm laughing too. It's nice to know that three more people are reacting positively about this, when I'm so unsure myself.

When they finally leave, I look at Plutarch. "That's not the only reason you're here."

"You're right, there's more," he agrees. "Our propos need a little spicing up, and you can help us. After all, everyone loves a wedding."

I'm frozen for a moment. A wedding? Peeta and me, married? For a moment I feel that old flicker of uncertainty that was constant when I wasn't sure who held my heart. But then it's all I can do not to jump up and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. As it is, I find myself straining against his arms.

"Everyone thinks we're already married," he reminds Plutarch. "From the interview." I want to shush him for arguing against it. But I shouldn't have worried.

"Their hopes were crushed when the Capitol wedding was canceled," Plutarch counters. "They'll be glad to see you two united formally, legally. And I'm sure the two of you will like it." He checks his watch. "I've got to run. We'll start preparations tomorrow." He walks out, leaving us alone.

"Married," I sigh, leaning back against the hospital bed.

"Mm-hmm," he agrees, but he sounds strangely reluctant. I open my eyes to see him watching me.

"I thought you wanted to get married?" I say uncertainly. This has always been his dream.

"I do," he acknowledges, "but I know you don't. I don't want to force you into anything…"

I laugh. Well, giggle is more appropriate, and this surprises me. "Peeta, when I didn't know what was going on or if I really loved you – _then_ I didn't want to get married. Half of that was just because I was afraid to start a family. I can't stand the thought of having my children in the reaping. But, well, this rebellion could change all of that. There might not be any more Hunger Games. And now that this baby's on the way, I don't see any reason to avoid getting married."

"Really?" His face splits into a grin so wide I think it may break his skull. I nod. "I knew you'd see sense eventually," he says, and we laugh together at his joke. "You know, I should have a ring," he points out after a few minutes of companionable silence.

"A ring's too… normal," I say, searching for the right word. "We've got to be the most abnormal couple in known history. Although," I add as Peeta's face falls, "if it matters to you, I'd love one."

"Where can you get a ring in District 13?" Peeta wonders.

"No idea. They'd probably deny any request on the grounds of whim," I tell him.

"These are the people who abandoned the Districts in the Dark Days," he says. "Whim, my foot. They owe our wedding to us."


End file.
